What's In A Name
by SilentWiccan
Summary: Upon receiving a few injuries, Ghost decided he's had enough of looking out for Roach, having to remain silent and secluded from his own mind. But when Ghost breaks, Roach finally learns what's in a name, and how the Ghost of his memory won't fade.
1. Chapter 1

**Whoooo... Just finished MW 3... and now I'm playing through all three on Veteran, one after the other :D. (THEN Ima play Halo anniversary, the Assassin's Creed Revelations!) I'm sad though... I almost cried when Soap finally gave in and let his wounds get the best of him... **

**R.I.P. John "Soap" MacTavish... you will be dearly missed... :'(**

**Don't ask what spurred this... even I don't really know... Guess I've been having an emotional week o.O which isn't exactly normal. I've also been anti-social, and not just at home, at work too. Oh well! I GOT PAID TODAY! (the day I wrote this... :p) shopping time, methinks... then writing time, then sleepy time, then GAME PLAYING OF AWESOMENESS TIME! Then more sleepy time and work time... Speaking of, it's midnight... i'll go to sleep in like... 2 hours, you know, once im done writing this.**

**RATED T for language, minor sexual situations (just to be safe .) and vio...need to think...yea, MINOR violence... don't liek it, don't read. Don't like it, but still read and then complain, An' I'll go all Scottish on yer arse! I'm 1/5th!**

**X X X**

"It's just a scratch."

Ghost held the man's arm in is hands, examining the bleeding wound. "First mate, it's Lieutenant. Second, it's not just a scratch. This is a _ga_s_h_. Can't you see the glass still innit?" Touching it tenderly, he pryed two small shards of glass loose from the flesh.

"Ouch!" He cried, "Be more gentle..."

"Don' be such a baby, Roach." MacTavish chuckled, standing above the two men. "You 'ave a trainin' accident?" He asked, his Scottish accent heavy.

"Yessir. Roach, here, decided itta be funneh to punch his fist through a window. I think he learned 'is lesson though." The skeleton-faced man laughed.

"Shut up..." The American groaned, "sir..." He added, upon MacTavish raising an eyebrow towards him.

"Good save, mate." Ghost shot the sergeant a look, then picked his pistol back up and holstered it. "Back to work then?"

Standing on his own merit through various grunts and groans, Roach sighed, placing both hands back on his rifle, aiming down range and popping each target with two bullets. "It's gonna be a long ass week..." He mumbled.

**X X X**

The 141 had been on leave for some time now, with no leads on their target showing up in any database. Despite this, none were complaining. It was the first time in months that they had been able to relax, and it was much appreciated.

Though on break, not everything was all about sitting back and drinking beer until someone threw up. No, drills were still being run, and the men trained, and Ghost continued looking into every possible option for getting back to his real job. But he wouldn't complain about getting to drill Roach either. Sure, MacTavish called the shots, and was off doing his own thing, and yes, Roach deserved some time to himself too. But that didn't mean he wouldn't stop testing their newest recruit.

The majority of the 141 began their days at 5 am, running the 5 km run, completing the obstacle course, casting a few rounds into the dirt of the firing range; that was standard procedure. But training Roach day in and day out... Something about it thrilled him.

Then, there was Roach... Haunted by memories of what he'd seen. He slept, though not well. He ran the same course almost every day because Ghost MADE him. But, he rationalized that it was fair for one reason only; Ghost was his superior. Despite this fact, it didn't make him Ghost's slave or anything, did it? Certainly not was his conclusion. He wasn't forced to do menial tasks for no reason, and he wasn't being forced into any kind of sexual situation. He wasn't hauling all the equipment around either, nor was he the one filing the paperwork: not a slave of any sort. He was simply a soldier doing as he was ordered by his CO.

**X X X **

Fuck, his arm hurt like a bitch. It stung immensely as the clean warm water ran over his arms and body. _It__'__s __just __cleaning__ and__ sanitizing __the __wound..._ He thought, gritting his teeth. _Thank __fucking__ God__ for__ hot__ water._ Just because he was named after an insect didn't mean that he had to look or smell like one.

Stepping out of his shower upon turning the water off, Roach caught sight of his body in the mirror, along with the numerous scars he had earned throughout the years. But despite the physical memories, he figured he looked good for being only 29. His muscles were well toned over his whole body, stomach flat yet rigid, legs and arms well-built. Ten there was his face... His hazel eyes paled against his red skin, and the scar that lingered directly beside his right eye which wrapped around the top of his ear stood out sorely. Unconsciously, his left hand feathered over the raised pink flesh, feeling the riges and bumps within the line.

"Ghost..." He murmured, shutting his eyes and turning away from the mirror. Reaching for a towel, he wrapped it around his waist. Someone had knocked on his door.

"Who wants in?"

The Brit kept knocking. "Roach, now's not the time."

"What's the password?" He called out, making his way toward the door.

"Roach..." Ghost replied warningly. "I will break this door don if I have to."

Sighing, the American complied, opening his door to reveal himself half-naked to his superior. "Yes?"

"I understand that we've been in the field for a long time, and I'm sorry for interrupting you attempt at sexually satisfying yourself, but we've got a mission briefing to be at in 5 minutes. MacTavish wants you there. Get dressed and get your arse down on the floor."

Looking away from the man clad in his field gear, Roach shut the door.

"Roach!"

"I'll be there in 5, sir." He responded, clothing himself.

**X X X**

Roach hated missions that took place in Russia. Sure, the snow was pretty, and yeah, the terrain was nice. But WHY in the name of everything sacred and holy did it have to be so FUCKING COLD?

"I'm freezing my arse off out 'ere... Can we wrap this up and get the bloody 'ell back home?" Ghost asked as their chopper dropped them in the middle of a small field.

"We'll be home soon enough mate." MacTavish responded. It was just him, Roach, Ghost and Scarecrow now. "With any luck, we'll be outta here in one hour. With any luck, that is." The team moved north, into a small grove of pine trees. They were close to a road and enemy personnel.

Their objective was 4.7 km north of them. Target building was a small house at the end of a highway, out in the middle of nowhere. Ridgelines filled with trees surrounded the location, perfect for cover... or an ambush, depending how one observed it. There were tiny roads littering the area as well, allowing small transport in and out.

"We clear, everyone know their task?" The three soldiers nodded in response. "Good. Roach with Ghost, take the ridge. Scarecrow, with me on the road. Stealth is preferred, open fire if you have to, suppressed weapons only. Move out. Rendevouz at the target building by 0600. I don't want any screw-ups, clear?"

"Clear." The three answered, Ghost taking lead of the upper walls while Roach followed. MacTavish smiled, motioning for Scarecrow to get a move on.

**X X X**

It was just the two of them, alone in the trees, cool winds blowing down their necks. Even with all of their armour, padding, and clothing didn't keep the cold out of their bones.

"It's fuckin' freezing out here..." Ghost cursed, though through a whisper.

"Damn straight." Was all Roach said in response. Surveying the surroundings, he saw an animal dash away into the thick of the brush as they passed it. "Ghost, I know this ain't a good time, but..."

"Then ask later, mate... Focus. We're two clicks out now."

"Copy. There's a house straight ahead."

Ghost went prone and immediately looked through the scope of his rifle. "Two tangos inside, one on the balcony. We can either take 'em out, or we can try to sneak past. Your call."

Roach made his way beside the soldier, choosing to look through a pair of binoculars instead. "The two inside'll be difficult to take. Can we make it past without being seen?"

"Long as we move slow and stay under cover." Ghost kept his gun close, beginning to crawl his way under the thick brushed of the trees. Every move he made, the snow creaked, packing down below his weight. Roach followed two feet behind, keeping a close eye on the tango that lingered on the balcony, smoking a cigar, or...something.

Ghost stopped, lying still for a moment, Roach complying and doing the same. The lookout had grabbed his gun and was examining the front of the house, paying careful attention to the trees. He wasn't sure what he saw, but he saw something moving. He spoke a few words that neither operative understood as the others joined him.

"Shit..." Ghost whispered, Roach gripping his sidearm tight while gritting his teeth.

The two tangos vanished back inside the house, and the lookout resumed smoking his cigar. Both operatives continued making their way past the house, muscles tense.

Once clear, they both took a moment to breathe. They had just skinned the line between being undetected or compromised, and both were thankful.

"Talk about luck..." Ghost checked his watch. It was 0538. They had just over twenty minutes to reach the target building. No transmissions had come in from Alpha, so two things could be assumed; they were still good, or they had been compromised. No enemy soldiers had been mobilized, so the first could be safely assumed.

They pushed forward, reaching an intersection. There were many small roads they had passed, but all were unnecessary. But this time, that wasn't the case. Then, as the two were deciding in their tree-cover, MacTavish emerged from the opposite side of the road, covered in snow from head to toe.

"Any trouble?"

"Almost compromised, but remained quiet due to nothing but dumb shitty luck, sir."

MacTavish pat his second on the shoulder. "We'll be good from 'ere on oot. It's easy from 'ere, straight up the road, maintain cover, grab the package, and get out. Let's move."

Scarecrow smirked, staying in close range to the party, lead by their captain and Ghost. Roach remained vigil.

As they moved, the grey-sided cabin came into view. No visible light seeped through the boarded windows. As MacTavish ordered his company to move in, with Roach taking point, the building was cleared out. One dead body sat in a quiet, dark corner, alone, but there was no identifiable material on him. There were no computers, no printed documents, nothing of the sort.

"This is the right building, innit?"

MacTavish nodded with his team. "Yea, this is it. They packed up and left, probly a few hours ago... We came too late." Shaking his head and packing, he radioed home. "Baseplate this is Hotel Six. Package is gone, left hours before we arrived. Place is clean. We'll be waiting for extraction at LZ Nova, over."

"We have you. Sending callsign Big Bird to LZ Nova right now. ETA is 10 minutes, copy?"

"Solid copy, Baseplate. Hotel Six out." MacTavish glanced over his shoulder to his men and kicked over a canister that was empty. Then the shouts began. Russian words echoed over the hill and into the cabin. "We need to move now. Go."

Following command, the four soldiers made their way through the frozen valley, keeping close to the roads. But then the gunfire erupted, tangos on their six. With only trees for cover, and sparse at that, the team continued up the hill, running as fast as they could while trying to not get shot.

"Baseplate, this is Hotel Six! We are under heavy enemy fire, I repeat, we are under heavy fire!"

"Copy, Hotel Six. Sending in air support. Please designate location for airstrike with laser, over."

"Copy, out! Roach, lase 'em now!"

Roach fumbled with the targeting device as he hid behind a tree. Russian soldiers had pinned him, and he was having trouble obtaining a window for which to aim. Ghost peeked out from his tree and fired three rounds, drawing their attention long enough for Roach to complete his task. Next thing he knew, fire was raining down from the sky as a chopper gunned down the tree line. But he himself felt odd, a searing heat running through his shoulder and something wet soaking his clothing. It was dark red, but he didn't stop to think on it.

"There's the LZ!" Soap called back to his men, pushing for it as Big Bird touched down, rotors still whirring above them."Get in the bloody chopper! C'mon let's go!"

"Roach is down!" Scarecrow called back, following behind MacTavish.

**X X X**

**So there it is, the beginning to a new COD MW story... it kinda sucks, I think, but I'm also attempting to write this at 1 AM... I'M TIRED! And probably going to bed right shortly... Neck is stiff and sore, eyes are heavy, and I'm starting to hallucinate again... joy. -_-... Anywho! It'll get better. More romantic too...slightly. ;)**

**Wrote this while listening to the modern warfare series soundtrack actually... Ima nerd sometimes, I guess... God my neck really fuckin hurts!**

**Next chapter is the end of this story, actually, so hopefully it won't take me too long to write... Also need to finish ch 6 and 7 of my Red Vs Blue fic, and start writing my other Red Vs Blue one shot fic of York/Delta... which MAY turn into a drabble series or something... dunno, haven't decided yet...**

**BUT I'M GOING TO BED NOW! NI NI! Thx for reading... review? Pweeeeeze? **


	2. Chapter 2

His shoulder hurt like a bitch. It ached and felt tense, the muscles straining themselves with every move he made. Ghost had teased him about the incident, though he personally found that getting shot wasn't funny in the least. Scarecrow remained reserved and kept the matter quiet, as did their fearless leader.

_Why__ do__ these __things __always__ happen to me__?_ He wondered in the silence of his quarters.

They had been back at base for three days now while he recovered. It was dark out, the moon shedding very little light on the terrain. Roach couldn't sleep. He sat on his cot and stared at the ceiling above him, massaging the injured limb. "Why me..." He sighed.

"Roach, you awake mate?"

The young man's head turned to his door. Nobody should be up at... Ok, maybe some people would be up at 11:35 pm. "Yeah." He called in return.

Ghost peeked inside, no balaclava, only his trademarked sunglasses. "How's your arms?"

Roach chuckled, shrugging. "Sir, is that really all you came here for? To check up on me and make sure I was ok? I'm pretty sure that I'm a grown man and can look after my own fucking self."

This prompted laughter from the Lieutenant. "Tell that to the wounds you've got." Roach mumbled in return. "No, what I came here for was to see you, as you. Not as your superior giving an order." Ghost smiled, taking Roach's arms into his rough and calloused hands. Though covered with gauze, they both still trickled with blood, causing a small whimper from the man when pressure was applied. "That hurt?"

The young American could only glare and grit his teeth. "Ghost, look... I'm sore, and I'm tired as all fucking hell. Why are you here?"

"Had to make sure you're ok." He replied, letting go of the smooth-skinned flesh, cracking a small smile. "Night Roach. Sorry for bothering you."

**X X X**

"Did ye tell 'im?" MacTavish asked, cleaning his assault rifle upon breaking it down into its various components in order to clean it.

"Not yet. It's harder than you think, sir."

"It's only hard if ye make it hard, laddie. You have to be the one to stand out and let 'im know." He said, wiping a cloth along the side of the barrel. "The longer you put it off, the 'arder it'll be for ye in the future. And you won't 'ave forever, either. We are at war, Simon. He could be gone tomorrow; so could you."

**X X X**

Even though his injuries were enough to keep him out of combat, they weren't for some utter reason, good enough to keep him out of training. Night had changed to day, and he was back at the shooting range, running drills for Ghost, as per usual. _Same__ shit__ different __day...__ I__ just__ wanna__ go __home..._ He thought to himself, sighing as he aimed down his sights.

"Hey...Ghost?"

"Yeah?" The masked soldier responded.

"Remember when I was going to ask you something in Russia a few days ago?" He saw the man nod. "Is now a good time?" He could hear an audible sigh, but was granted his request. "Alright... Here goes. What did you choose _Ghost_ as your code? Why become nothing more than a memory, or something that doesn't exist?"

"I chose it because that's what I am to the enemy, a ghost. They see me, and then they don't. Then they die. I've taken a lot of lives, Sgt. Sanderson, and though I may not be proud of all I've taken, I still stand by what I am. Something that plagues others... Tortures them, and they don't even know it until it's too late."

Roach jumped when his last name was said, realizing it was the first time in months that anyone had called him by it. They all called him _Roach_ or _The__ FNG_ now anyways... "And the balaclava and shades?"

"I like to remain as a ghost... with a face that nobody knows, let alone one that's recognizable. As for the sunglasses? Well, I just like wearin' 'em." He said, adjusting them to fit better on his face. "Why d'you ask?"

"Curious, that's all. I've never seen your real face, and I doubted anyone else at this base, 'cept for maybe MacTavish, might have seen. "

This made Ghost chuckle. "I like it... What 'bout you? Why _Roach_ for a name?"

"Because Roaches get in everywhere... They're pests and hard to kill."

Roach smiled, realizing he'd intrigued his CO with his statement. Ghost hung his head, walked close to the man as he threw his arms around his subordinate in a tight embrace. "And it's a damn good thing you're hard to kill too..." He whispered. "I'm so sorry for shooting you that one time, love..."

_Love?__What__the__hell..._ Shocked by the action, Roach didn't know whether to return the hug or to push the man away. He figured it was just some kind of companionship issue that Ghost had, believing it was just because they fought side by side. Even then, they still had their differences. Each saw things in a different way, and maybe the things they'd done to other human beings was finally getting to him; breaking him down.

"Ghost? You ok?" He asked, Ghost's arms still locked around him. "C'mon man, time to let go."

"Hm? Oh, sorry... Lost in my thoughts again."

Roach just nodded. "Let's skip today and go talk elsewhere, ok?" He held onto Ghost's shoulders, trying to look into his eyes. Something was wrong, but he knew that staring at Ghost wouldn't get it out of him. Instead, Roach did the only thing he could think of, and that was to go to Ghost's own room.

**X X X**

The room was bare, save for the odd pieces of furniture; a desk, a laptop with several extra monitors hooked up to it, and photos of TF 141 in its earlier days. There was no table or couch, just a chair, a bed, and the other things that became necessity. Roach haled Ghost over to his bed and sat him down, removing the sunglasses. _Gorgeous __green __eyes...__ Who__ would__'__ve__ thought?_

"Ghost, are you still with me?"

"Simon... My name is Simon, Gary."

_Dear __fucking __God!__ What__ else __will __I __learn__ today?_ He wondered, confused why Ghost would tell him all of this all of a sudden. Yet, even through his confusion, Roach felt a curiosity well up inside him, his mind imagining the face that remained hidden.

"I'm sorry for always checking up on you, mate... I just worry, is all. For all I know, any of us could die tomorrow, or whenever we next go into the field." Ghost's worried eyes met Roach's, the pain the older man felt slowly pressing its way inside the younger man. "MacTavish made me realize that a little while ago... And I figured I should say something. Don't hate me for it, please... But I love you, Gary. The day I shot you, I cried that night. When you busted up your hand during training, I was worried what would happen with all the glass, and two days ago, now... I thought I might lose you."

Was Roach hearing him right? Ghost had said 'I love you'? "It's cool. It was just a scratch, y'know."

"It's not just a scratch!" Ghost barked at him. "Two days ago, you could've died. You got lucky! And don't you dare try to tell me otherwise!" Rage flared within him. He wanted to beat Roach's arse, and show him how lucky he truly was... But he was incapable of hurting the young man.

Roach, finding the escapade rather amusing sat down beside Ghost. "Take your balaclava off then. Show me what you really look like."

Ghost froze at the request. The only man, or other person in general, that he'd ever shown his face to after his incident was MacTavish. The thought of such action terrified him, but before he knew it, Roach had already reached around and pulled it off, showing the ugly scar that covered his whole left check and down on his neck.

"What's this from?"

"Explosion... Accidental grenade release."

_Dear__ God,__ please__ forgive __me__ for __what__ I__'__m__ about__ to__ do..._ Without thinking, Roach reached behind Ghost's head and pulled him close, his lips meeting the other man's. A mild warmth soared through Ghost's body, but he felt incomplete as Roach pulled away.

"Roach... You just..."

"Yeah, I did."

"...Why?"

"Because you needed it... and because no matter what, you'll always be the Ghost of my memories..." He said, climbing above Ghost as the older man lay on his back, Roach lying on top of him. Their lips met repeatedly, and their bodies exchanged a rather pleasing warmth between the two.

**X X X**

"You seem happier today, eh Ghost?" MacTavish said, smirking to his Second.

"I took your advice, sir... Thank you."

A simple nod was given in return. "Just remember, when in the field, anything could happen. One of ye could die out there. But, I will say that I'm proud of ye for finally lettin' 'im know."

Ghost chuckled at his superior. At least he didn't have to hide his love for the younger man around the Captain anymore... not that it was ever really possible in the first place. "You don't mind having someone of my... tastes... on your team?"

The Scotsman smiled at him. "I think it'll liven things up around 'ere, that's for sure. Just remember, the mission comes first, out people second. Understood.?"

"Yes sir."

**X X X**

**And so here it is... another chapter, slower, smaller, less engaging (i think, at least) than the previous one... I was debating on trying to even them, but this seems to work. Sorry if you were looking for more. I don't plan on writing smut... If you were looking for that, sorry, you'll need to find a different story.**

**Whew... ok, it's 1:54am... at least i have tomor... today off... im going to bed! Night guys, thank you for reading! Please leave a review containing anything ranging from thoughts, views, opinions, critiques, and/or something else! Take care! *goes to sleep***


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